"A man of honour! You are either a dishonest man, sir, or a dupe."
"Monseigneur!"
"You have basely abused the innocence of a child of fifteen years, I tell you, or you are her dupe. Parisian girls are precocious in the art of cheating husbands."
Frantz looked at the prince a moment in silence, but without anger or confusion, vainly trying to ascertain the meaning of these words which touched him neither in his love nor in his honour.
"Excuse me, monseigneur, I do not understand you."
Frantz uttered these words with such an expression of sincerity, with such ingenuous assurance, that the prince, more and more astonished, added, after a moment's silence, looking at the young man with a penetrating gaze:
"Did you not just tell me that your marriage with this young lady could not be deferred?"
"No, monseigneur; with the permission of your Royal Highness, it ought not to be and will not be!"
"Because without marriage you would be wanting in honour?"
"Yes, monseigneur."